Remainders

Off-White

I wear a lot of off-white these days.
Someway or the other...
Nor sparkling sea salt,
Dull city clouds neither.
Nor out and about,
Cooped up in closet neither.
My sister keeps on asking me,
"Why you ain't fighting with me nomore?
You used to dissent all the time.
Come fight me... Why are you not mad?"
She's yet to figure out,
Maybe she's trying to figure out.
I hope she does figure out.
Cause, I've stopped over-explaining myself.
I'm not gonna tell her that 
"I choose my own battles, at this point of life.
And, I'm not so naive to be invested
In worthless battles when I know very well
That a goddamn war is waiting for me out there."
Yeah, a war, I know what I said.
This isn't to romanticize the ugliness of it all.
This is to declare, I am about to break
Some good number of chains.
This time, Josephine is gonna fly
With or without a flying machine.

Also, there's another huge part of this,
That's all with-about-for the Flower of Orchid
Whose everyday handwriting can actually
Be considered as effortless calligraphy.
I could never gather enough words in my mouth
That will create a flow to tell her
What it does to me when I see a spark
In her calm and sleepy doe eyes.
Though, she does have a very good idea
Of what she does to me when she places
The palms of her hands on mine
To measure our palms together.
She knows it, when she oh-so lightly
Presses the nerves of my wrists.
And when she washes me away
With her brilliance and itellect
That defies the construct
Of time and space for me.
Live. Give. Love.
Imroze continues to remind me.
Imroze who dared to take
The easiest decision of loving Amrita
Till the very end of time.
And, trust me, I know that choosing
The easiest thing,
Indeed takes a great courage,
And a hell lot of self-confrontation.
In short, just kindness.
Worth the Universe.

My Dearest One,
When the war is over...
At least for once,
Take me on a walk home with you.